‘Of course I remember it; and very pleasant days they were,’ replied Bismarck; and he forthwith proceeded to describe, greatly to the amusement of the _present_ deputies of the annexed province of Nassau, the celebrities and oddities of the Nassau and Frankfort of _that_ day, with so much life and humour, that the merriment of this South German group attracted general attention. The account of ‘_dicke_ (portly) Daumer’s’ intense fear of death, or anything connected therewith, specially amused the sons of the now Prussianised district of Wiesbaden. Bismarck continued: ‘One fine autumn morning, I was out hunting with “dicke Daumer” in the neighbourhood of Frankfort. After a long and tiring climb among the mountains, we sat down to rest on the edge of the forest, when, to my horror, I found I had brought no luncheon with me. “Dicke Daumer,” however, drew forth a mighty sausage, and, in the most noble and magnanimous manner, offered me half of it. Now, gentlemen, I frankly confess to having a very good appetite, which this morning excursion in the keen mountain air had by no means lessened. The whole sausage would barely have sufficed to satisfy my hunger. Our meal commenced; I saw the end of my piece of sausage approaching; I was getting desperate! Then suddenly turning to “dicke Daumer,” I ask in the most innocent manner possible: “Can you tell me, Herr Daumer, what that white thing down there among the plum-trees is?” “Good gracious, Your Excellency, you quite take away one’s appetite!” said Daumer, who so dreaded his latter end. “Why, that is the churchyard!” “Is it really, now? Why, Herr Daumer, it looks so pretty! let us go down and choose out some nice secluded shady nook! How calm and peaceful it must be to rest in so sweet a spot!” “Oh, Your Excellency!—there—there,” and he put down the sausage: “I cannot touch another mouthful!” ‘And old Daumer remained firm in this. So you see, gentlemen, I had a good luncheon after all.’ Universal laughter greeted this anecdote. ‘How is it one never sees you now in the House?’ I ask a young Thuringian who has made a name for himself both as a government lawyer and a wit. ‘Oh, I am busy all day now in the European “Lint Congress,”’ he replied. ‘And pray, what may that be?’ I ask. ‘Why, my dear sir, did you not know that is the name the Berliner wits have given to the International Association for the care and nursing of wounded soldiers?’ Two of the greatest lawyers in the world stand close beside me deep in conversation. Every ten minutes, a fresh word is added to a paragraph for the future North German penal code. Braun-Wiesbaden approaches and joins the conclave, which is just discussing that much vexed question, the abolition of capital punishment. ‘You may make your minds easy, gentlemen, and settle to abolish capital punishment,’ he said. ‘Indeed! Have you, then, found a surrogate?’ ‘I have.’ ‘Well?’ ask the expectant lawyers with unbelieving curiosity.